Kismet
by syuusukemitsu
Summary: Fuji meets Tezuka five years later in a foreign country, and chances are open to him once more. Will he take a risk? tezufuji, shonen-ai, yaoi.
1. Chanced encounter

**Kismet**

**Author's note**: Hi back with second fic…still tezufuji.. shonen-ai, yaoi??(nt sure) thanks to everyone who reviewed the first one, I really appreciated it…

**To ruji, Hakudoshi-chan and yamatadragon**: Thanks, u guys… I feel happy 

**To tezukaeiri**: I understand that everyone likes to write about Tezuka going to Germany and Fuji angsting behind… maybe because that is the crucial Tezuka-centric part in the anime? . I know it can get predictable after awhile, but for my first attempt, I just had to try it… Still, I appreciate your review! hugs

btw, this fic is not based on Tezuka leaving Fuji behind… BUT it is an important part of the backgrd info… so... . 

**Disclaimer**: I owe nothing but the plot, Konomi-san owes the rest.

Chapter 1

The day had just begun and the first sunrays filtered through the low-lying fog which was a constant companion to Italy's weather. Around a corner of a certain street, in an inconspicuous coffee house, a solitary figure was pensively sipping hot coffee. With one hand, the young man poured a brief rotating arc of white into the black depths, inhaling the rich aroma of caffeine while cradling the mug. With the other, he absent-mindedly flipped through a photo album, one that contained his works. He stopped at a particular sepia photo of an antique and frowned slightly, deciding that there was something off-balance about the angle at which it had been taken. Before he could ponder further, a quick glance at his watch told him that he was just about due for his next assignment. Snapping the photo album shut, the man hurriedly drained off the rest of his coffee and hastened out of the coffee house.

This was how Fuji Syuusuke had been living his life for the past two years. He worked with a photography agency, and had earned himself a reputation as one of the most skilled photographers who currently grazed the society. Day in, day out, Fuji Syuusuke accepted assignments, went to shoot assigned photos and penned the occasional article or two. One of the things he liked most about the job was that he did not have to be cooped up all day in a stuffy office, on the contrary, between assignments; he could freely explore the country in search of inspiration. Much like an unfettered butterfly, Fuji Syuusuke enjoyed the peace, the freedom of it all, but he hated the solitude.

Running a hand through his chestnut colored tresses, Fuji deliberated about the assignment for the day. He had been told to cover a professional tennis team this time instead of the usual architecture or art (somehow all his colleagues assumed he had an artistic flair), and it suited him just fine. In fact, Fuji had once been deeply attached to tennis. Not that he had lost interest, he had just become busier over the years, taking up photography as a professional career, and soon just drifted away from the game which once embodied his prodigal being. But Fuji would still play tennis whenever he could spare the time, which was usually during the weekend where he would practice in an empty tennis court near his apartment. Besides, tennis reminded him of someone he was sure he would never be able to forget in this lifetime.

Fuji vividly remembered those brown, brown eyes, that pair of gold-rimmed spectacles which lent him a distinguished aura of someone much older, and that ice-cold demeanor, all of which were unique to one outstanding individual- Tezuka Kunimitsu. Somewhere in the recesses of his heart, Fuji was aware that he had felt something for the buchou, something more than friendship itself, but he had chosen not to let those ambiguous feelings flower. Yet it was undeniable that it was a main reason why the young tensai had chosen to remain single all these years, even though his attractive looks meant that he had no lack of admirers. Unfortunately, he and Tezuka had grown apart after the latter had left for Germany, and even more so when Fuji chose to move to Italy. It was hard to pinpoint who actually stopped the e-mails first, since it takes two to talk and even more so to stop. In fact, Tezuka probably had no clue that Fuji was currently residing in Italy.

Fuji unconsciously slipped into wondering what Tezuka was doing now, and mentally calculated the time difference between them. He only snapped out of the reverie when he realized that he had reached the doorstep of the tennis centre.

Stepping in quietly, it suddenly hit Fuji that he had been given no details about the team whatsoever. All he knew was that he would have to look for the coach of the team first. Vaguely, Fuji heard the sound of tennis balls and swinging racquets, and he moved in the direction which his ears brought him to. He stood and observed the regulars for a moment, assessing their movements. They were good, but not amazing, and Fuji felt that he might be able to beat them if he tried hard enough. Looking around to see no sign of the coach, Fuji stepped into one of the courts, deciding that the only way to get anywhere was to interrupt a game.

Turning to tap one of the members, Fuji proceeded to ask his question, yet froze when his keen ears caught a familiar whizzing sound headed straight for his head. Perhaps it was a conditioned instinct from that match with Kirihara years ago, or maybe it was just his tensai abilities, but without turning around the slightest bit at all, Fuji raised his right hand and caught the tennis ball in his palm gracefully. The tennis player who had accidentally hit that offending ball looked both stunned and awed at the same time, and tried to stammer an apology. A magnanimous smile grazing his lips, Fuji nodded at the apology, and asked the player where his coach was. Before the player could utter a word, a second person had stepped into the court.

"Aa. You have good reflexes" , a deep voice articulated.

Fuji felt every muscle in his body tense up. He might not have been facing the stranger, but there was no mistaking the authoritative lilt in that voice, or the slight hint of an accent. Trembling slightly, Fuji turned around slowly and raised his head, brushing back the bangs that were obscuring his view. Momentarily, his eyes shot open, registering shock and disbelief.

"…Tezuka?"

The other man's eyes flooded with recognition at both the face and the voice belonging to the man standing before him.

"… Fuji?"

**-Owari for now-**

**2nd chapter coming up soon, but first please review on how this chapter was.. So, go on, click the little review button… :p**


	2. Fleeting moments

**Author's note**: Hi all I deliver second chapter…

Thanks to all reviewers… spread the tezufuji luv!

**To RoYale: **Kismet means destiny or fate… there might be a boat trip later on in the story… depends on the extent of my creativity and knowledge of Italian rivers.. haha

**Disclaimer**: Erm, what else? I don't own Fuji or Tezuka, unfortunately.

**Chapter 2 **

Tezuka, after recovering from the initial surprise, regained his habitual calm composure and motioned for Fuji to sit down next to him on a bench nearby. Fuji compiled with a smile, feeling slightly light-headed at the unexpected turn of events, especially since Tezuka had occupied his thoughts that very morning. Both of them sat side by side in companionable silence, staring at the roseate leaves of the maple tree which drifted all around them. Neither of them knew how to breach a conversation, inwardly lamenting what five years did to their ability to converse with each other.

"So…"

"You.."

Tezuka and Fuji both smiled slightly as they began talking at the exact same moment. Chuckling lightly, Fuji said,

"You first, Buchou.."

Clearing his throat, Tezuka answered,

"Hai.. So you are the photographer for this article?"

"Hai..Tezuka-buchou is the coach?"

It felt strange for Tezuka to hear the 'buchou' once again affixed to his name after such a long time, but there was no denying the affection, the warmth, in those simple spoken words, and Tezuka relaxed.

"Hai… I got transferred from Germany to here, Italy, to lead this team after I graduated from University… change of environment, I guess." Tezuka shrugged nonchalantly.

"How about you?"

"Me? Oh, I graduated from a University here and subsequently took up photography as a full-time career… Um, change of environment for me as well," Fuji laughed, though his light laughter was jarred somewhat.

"Aa. I see. Still play, then?" Tezuka asked candidly.

"Saa… Only sometimes though.."

"Care to have a game with me?"

Fuji looked up then, and saw the raw passion and determined resilience for tennis still burning strong in his buchou's eyes. It stuck a primal chord in his heart, and he realized that Tezuka was somehow able to invoke a spark in Fuji's own soul, one that threatened to be buried under the encumbrance that often accompanied work. Standing up to stretch his arms, Fuji gave his silent consent.

Tezuka passed Fuji an extra tennis racquet of his own. The latter swung it for a few, trying to get used to the tension and weight. Then they stepped into one of the courts.

All the regulars had stopped by now and were watching the scene, fascinated. It had been a long time since they had last watched their coach play seriously, and could not help but wonder how this smiling photographer would match up against their stronger-than-strong coach.

"Takumi-san, will you please be our referee?"

"Hai…" a young man with messy black hair hurried forward.

"One-set match. Tezuka to serve."

Fuji got ready, into position, and watched Tezuka with predatory intensity. With the little fact that Tezuka had been playing professionally, well, he just could not afford to let his guard down. Fuji trained his eyes on Tezuka as the latter served.

The first shot flew past swiftly, almost unseeable, untouchable, and bounced directly into Fuji's court, robbing Fuji of any movement.

"Fifteen-love."

The next shot was similar in speed, zooming past so quickly that even Fuji with all his tensai abilities could barely make out the direction of the ball. Fuji narrowed his eyes slightly. He would not lose this set just with Tezuka's serves. Gripping his tennis racquet handle with a new-found spirit, Fuji was determined to return the next ball.

Tezuka tossed the ball and served. Fuji darted to the left with an astonishing burst of speed, sending the ball whizzing over the net with a graceful ease. Lithe and sure-footed, Tezuka returned the shot, mentally take note of the increase in power of Fuji's shots since they last played against one another. They rallied back and forth a few more times, then Tezuka found the perfect opportunity for his drop shot and executed it flawlessly, rendering Fuji hapless.

"Game, Tezuka. 1-0."

Tezuka was good, as usual, but Fuji was just warming up. He was determined to keep his service game. Putting a spin on the ball, Fuji served. Somewhere over the net, the ball disappeared. The members of the tennis team gasped, and before anyone could comprehend the mystique of it all, the ball had rolled in a neat line over to Tezuka's court.

"Fifteen-love."

Fuji served again, but his opponent was ready, as Tezuka sprinted to intercept the ball. It was a game well played as Fuji executed his counter-attacks which hit the back-line of Tezuka's court with pin-point precision, making sure that the angle aimed was virtually unreturnable.

"Game Fuji. One game all."

The next game was anybody's call, as the service returned to Tezuka. He served once more, and his assessing eyes caught the slightest movement of Fuji's wrist. Analysing it, Tezuka decided that it was going to be a shot from near range, as he rushed to the front of the net to intercept it. However, his judgement proved to be wrong as with a flick of his wrist, Fuji lobbed the yellow speck over to the far end.

"Love-fifteen"

Stunned into momentary silence, Tezuka was unduly disturbed at his error in judgement. It rarely happened. The muscle in his jaw was tense as he served once more. Somewhere between the rallying, it happened once more, that slight flick of Fuji's wrist. Tezuka scrutinized it closely, it was exactly the same as the one before. Tezuka moved to the back of the court, ready to return the lob. With a smile and a flick of his wrist, Fuji hit it just gently over the net.

"Love-thirty"

Tezuka's eyes narrowed into a pair of ominous slits, holding a reflective shade of distress. He was completely unable to predict Fuji's next movement. With his brows furrowed, he served the ball across the net. The ball was hit back and forth a few times before Tezuka caught that movement again. He silently contemplated his next move as a voice piped up from across the net.

"Buchou, appearances can be deceiving. You're looking, but you're not searching."

Tezuka looked back into the face of his opponent, whose countenance was tinged with sadistic amusement. Fuji's words were vague, imbued with ambiguity, trapping Tezuka into an expertly-woven trap.

"Love-forty"

Tezuka felt seriously puzzled. The next return was an exact replica, with Tezuka rushing to the front when it was a lob to the back.

"Buchou, search with your heart, not your head," Fuji called out from across the net.

At the mention of those words, the stark realization dawned upon Tezuka. All reason fled him as he braced himself for the next return. On the next return shot, the normally rational Tezuka, instead of analyzing Fuji's body movements, stared straight into those deep azure eyes. He saw something in those depths, something that clicked within him, and sub-consciously moved to the net. This time, he was absolutely right as hit the ball perfectly.

That ability to read Fuji's movements, coupled with his strong skills, led Tezuka to an edge over Fuji, and spurred him on to win the game and the match.

"Game and Match. Tezuka, 7-6."

Panting from exhaustion, Fuji clasped hands with Tezuka over the net.

"Ne, Tezuka, looks like I'm still unable to beat you after all these years…", Fuji said ruefully.

"Iie, you don't even play professionally now plus you gave me that hint in the middle of the game.."Tezuka replied.

"Yah well, sometimes tennis is about understanding your opponents. If you didn't know me well, there's no way you would have been able to understand the message in my eyes.." the words died away on Fuji's lips.

Fuji's eyelids dropped like a veil over his sapphire eyes, hiding all signs of what he might be thinking. With an endless smile once again plastered on his face, he asked,

"Ano… I have to start taking the pictures now, so, if you don't mind…"

"Hn. Which kind would you want to take?" Tezuka asked thoughtfully.

"Oh, just the in-action kind…"

"Fine then." Tezuka gestured for his team to continue practicing while he silently trailed alongside Fuji, observing how the tensai took photos with an intensity yet almost careless ease.

Taking a chance, Tezuka discreetly stole a long look at the other's profile. Fuji had definitely grown taller since they were last team-mates, and his body did not look as delicate as before. He wore his hair in the same messy fashion, and a perpetual beatific smile still grazed his lips. The tensai now exuded charm, charisma, albeit weaved with a touch of danger, as always. Five years had done Fuji justice. So caught up was he in his thoughts that Tezuka failed to notice a black camera pointed at him until it was too late.

Click.

"Fuji..," Tezuka growled threateningly.

"Maa.. Buchou can't make me run laps anymore.." Fuji chuckled at the murderous look on Tezuka's face.

He couldn't wait to return home to develop the photos.

Owari for 2nd chapt

I rewrote this freaking tennis scene 4 times before I was even semi-satisfied, so if it sucks really badly, well, there's nothing I can do. Just review anyway please!


	3. Sleepless nights

Author's note: -Third chapter up- (slightly introspective, implied golden pair )

Disclaimer: Konomi-sensei owes all the characters. I only owe the plot.

**Chapter 3**

By the time Fuji reached his apartment, it was already evening time, yet there was only one thing on his mind. Draping his canvas bag carelessly over the back of a chair, he withdrew his camera and proceeded to the storeroom which he had ingeniously converted into a darkroom. Blinking for a few to allow his pupils to adjust to the dark atmosphere, Fuji then unloaded the film in his camera to develop the photos. Once the photos were developed, Fuji hung them up and surveyed them. He stopped at the last photo.

Tezuka stood frozen in time, a contemplative look evident on his countenance.

Fuji developed a reprint of that photo by four-fold, with his photograph enlarger.

Flopping onto his comfy bed with the rarity nestled in his arms; Fuji sank into deep thought, thinking about how his entire life had just changed in a matter of hours. He recalled the conversation he and Tezuka had beneath the maple tree that afternoon. Apparently, Tezuka had just moved to Italy recently, and had been busy working most of the time. (if you considered being a sports coach, work) Fuji reached into the back pocket of his trousers and pulled out a slip of paper, on which he had coerced Tezuka into writing his address and phone number, and read the neat handwriting. Ironically, Tezuka lived a mere few streets away from himself, completely within walking distance. Not like Fuji would be frequently walking to Tezuka's house in the middle of the night or anything… He mentally berated himself for thinking immoral thoughts, than stood up to grab a bite, realizing that it was way past dinner-time.

Settling himself down on the sofa and absently chewing on a mouthful of chilli noodles, Fuji's mind was preoccupied. In fact, he had been in this state of suspended animation ever since he had met Tezuka in the afternoon. For the past ten minutes or so, Fuji had been trying to decipher every word that came out of Tezuka's mouth during their short exchange, trying to figure out whether he was still single or happily attached. Sighing with disappointment at his own impatience and growing curiosity, Fuji decided that there was only one way to find out, if not from the horse's mouth itself. Swallowing the mouthful of noodles, his fingers punched out numbers, which had long since ingrained into his mind, on the telephone…

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_Meanwhile, a few streets away…_

Tezuka buried his head in his hands and crumpled up the third attempt of a report in extreme frustration. He had been trying to type out the routine analysis of his team's improvement, which he managed to do in minute detail every day without fail. However, today his brains seemed to have shut down completely. The only thing that stood out from that afternoon's practice was a pair of blue eyes, the exact color of the estuary sky. In fact, the only thing his mind could comprehend right now was the smiling visage of his ex-teammate.

Tezuka tried hard to ignore the fluttery feeling present in the pit of his stomach whenever he thought of Fuji, but he was failing miserably in his half-hearted attempt. True, he thought that he had felt something slightly deeper than friendship with the tensai back when they were in middle school, but he didn't want to make a move and scare the other boy off. Besides, they were too young back then… Heck, Tezuka hadn't even known that he still felt that way until Fuji actually reappeared before his eyes. Too overwhelmed with all the feelings and confusion that threatened to engulf him all at once; Tezuka sub-consciously reached for the phone and dialed a very familiar number, belonging to someone who would definitely help him out.

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_Dead in the middle of the night, in a certain house in Japan…_

Two cell-phones rang shrilly, jolting Oishi awake. He rubbed his eyes sleepily, and yawned with fatigue. Who in the world would be calling at 2 am in the morning?? Blinking blearily, he realized that it was not only his, but Eiji's cell phone ringing too. Forcefully shaking the still form next to him, Oishi whispered,

"Wake up, Eiji! Your phone is ringing."

"Huh?? Hoi…" Eiji replied sleepily, reaching over Oishi's chest to grab the phone on the bedside stand.

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"Hello, Eiji here nya. Who you?" Eiji slurred in a sleep-induced tone.

"Eiji? Sorry, I forgot it was so late over in Japan. This is Fuji."

"Hoi, hoi! Fuji! Haven't heard from you for so long! How's Italy? How are you? Are you having fun?" Eiji visibly perked up at the sound of his best friend's voice, and started to babble on as usual.

Fuji laughed at the abundance of zest flowing from the red-head, even at 2 am in the morning. He could feel the genuine happiness and warmth radiating from the phone, even.

Toying absently with the phone cord, he wondered how to phrase the next sentence coherently.

"Erm, Eiji listen, I need you to do me a favour." Fuji began hesitantly.

"Sure! Just name it."

"Oishi is just beside you now, right?" Fuji said in a slight teasing tone, knowing that the golden pair had shifted in together.

"Hoi, he is…"

"Do you know whether he has kept contact with Tezuka-buchou all these years?"

"Yah, he has.."

"Then can you help me ask him whether Tezuka is still single?"

"…whether Tezuka-buchou is still single?"

"Can you help me?", Fuji asked. If this didn't work, there was no way he was going to quell his growing curiosity.

"Sure… hang on a second nya…" Eiji covered the mouthpiece with one hand and turned to Oishi on the other side of the bed.

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"Moshi-moshi. Oishi here."

"Oishi. This is Tezuka."

"..Oh, Tezuka. Is something wrong? Why are you calling me at this late hour?" Oishi couldn't help worrying that something had happened to his best friend over in Italy.

"Sorry for any disturbance. It's just that I need a favour from you, is it alright?"

"It's fine. All you have to do is ask."

"Aa. Thank you. Is Eiji by any chance with you right now?" Tezuka asked. Not that he knew anything. He was just making a wild guess, pure and simple.

"Hai…" Oishi replied, feeling slightly puzzled.

"Has he kept contact with Fuji over the years?"

"I think so…"

"Good. Can you help me ask him whether Fuji is currently single?"

"Erm, sure… hold on for awhile.." Oishi covered the mouthpiece and turned over to Eiji.

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" Eiji, is Fuji single right now?"

" Oishi, is Tezuka-buchou still single nya?"

The words fell from their lips at the exact same moment.

Glancing at each other wide-eyed, they nodded simultaneously in bewilderment. Then each turned back to their cell-phones with the new answer.

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"Fuji? Hai… Oishi says that buchou is still single nya. Why do you want to know, anyway?" Eiji asked inquisitively.

"Oh, no particular reason. Thanks, well then, I won't disturb your time with Oishi any further. Bye now!", Fuji replied vaguely, yet with a hint of mischief.

"Fuji, you're so mean nya!" Eiji wailed into the phone, but it was too late. The tensai had already hung up.

Back in Italy, Fuji felt much comforted at the reply he had received. Replaying the phone call to Eiji over in his head, it lulled him into a peaceful sleep.

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"Tezuka? Eiji says Fuji is still single…" Oishi replied tentatively.

"Oh, okay then. Thanks. Have a good night."

His brain too fogged up with the idea of going back to bed, Oishi didn't even stop to probe. Instead, he just replied good night, and hung up the phone as well.

Somehow, the answer made Tezuka somewhat more settled. Heaving a sigh, he continued on with his team's report, sleep gently taking over his exhausted being…

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Eiji nudged the body next to him. The phonecall from Fuji had got his mind working again.

"Oishi, do you think Fuji and Tezuka might have met in Italy?"

Oishi thought about it for a second. So did Eiji.

Then they both burst out laughing in unison.

"Nah!"they chuckled.

"Italy is so big, how could they have met one another?"

"Sou,sou.. It would've taken a miracle nya! Besides, Fuji doesn't even know that Tezuka is in Italy too! I never told him…"

Chuckling softly once more, the golden pair fell gently into slumber again.

Apparently, miracles do happen.

----------**Owari for now**---------------------------------------------------------------------------

-Read and review, ne?


	4. Italian romance

**Author's note**:Sorry for the wait, I went on holiday ; btw, I know nothing about gondolas, so this is all assumption…

**Disclaimer** Does it really need to be said again??

_**Kismet chapter 4: Italian romance**_

The next morning, one very energetic tensai awoke from a good night's sleep. He grinned to himself as he took a quick glance at the bedside clock. 10 in the morning. Perfect timing. Running a hand through his tousled hair, Fuji decided to take a quick shower to freshen up.

When he had stepped out of the shower, the whirring sound of the fax machine greeted his ears. Picking up the piece of paper, Fuji scanned it curiously, before a wide smile spread over his face. It was his next assignment, and it sounded pretty interesting. Even though it was a Sunday, he decided that he wanted to get started right away. The gears in his head started wheeling as he thought up a detailed, meticulous plan for the day, one that included a certain friend…

Picking up the phone next to him, Fuji read off a number from the piece of paper Tezuka had given him, and dialed.

"Hello?"

"Tezuka? It's Fuji."

"Ah."

"Are you free today?"

"I think so, why?" Tezuka could not help but be slightly wary of Fuji. Afterall, he was famous for his penchant of seeing people suffer.

"Nothing much, it's just that I'll be working today, covering shots outside, and it'll be boring alone. Can you come?"

"Ah, I see. Fine, I can come." Deep inside, Tezuka couldn't help but want to see what Fuji did everyday for a living, and what about it could have held the tensai's attention even more than tennis did.

"Great! It's a date then. Meet you at twelve at the entrance of the Grand canal. See you!" without waiting for a reply, Fuji hung up the phone.

Tezuka nearly choked at the words it's a date. What on earth had Fuji meant? Trying to reassure himself that it had been another of Fuji's meaningless jokes, Tezuka strode off to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea.

Over at the other end, Fuji laughed quietly to himself. He had caught Tezuka's little choke of surprise at his words. Humming a melodious tune to complement his high spirits, Fuji hurried off to prepare himself a simple breakfast comprising of black coffee and wasabi sandwiches. He knew it had been a good idea to bring along those hundreds of wasabi packets to Italy in the first place. The food here was too bland for his liking as he had predicted.

After polishing off his breakfast, Fuji changed into a pair of black trousers and a white button-down shirt, grabbed his camera, and left his house.

It was a sunny day, perfect for photo-taking. As Fuji admired the scenery, his keen eyes spotted a tall figure already standing at the entrance to the Grand canal. Early as usual, as to be expected of Tezuka-buchou.

Lifting up his hand in a slight wave to acknowledge Tezuka's presence, Fuji felt his smile soften upon looking at the buchou from a closer range. His modest midnight-blue long sleeved shirt and brown slacks suited him well, fitting for his tall and well-toned figure.

"So… let's go," Fuji announced.

"Go? Where exactly?", Tezuka's brow furrowed in confusion, as he realized that Fuji had not told him where they would be going.

"Oh. There, of course. The gondolas.", Fuji inclined his head slightly towards the canal, where there were people taking gondola rides.

"The gondolas?", Tezuka's eyes widened in something akin to horror. He was never too fond of any water activities besides fishing.

"Of course. I'm supposed to take pictures of the architecture lining the Canal. What better way to do so than to ride down the Canal?" Fuji said innocently, purposely ignoring the fact that Tezuka disliked water.

"Ah. Okay.." Tezuka agreed reluctantly, and let himself be pulled off to a gondola by a very enthusiastic Fuji.

Fuji picked a classy black gondola docked near the edge which was furnished with gold details. After indicating to Tezuka that he should get into the gondola first, Fuji stepped aside and told the gondola-rower that they would like to row the gondola by themselves.

The man acquiesced and handed the oars over to Fuji, who promptly handed them over to Tezuka who was already sitting comfortably inside the gondola.

Tezuka's left eye twitched.

"You're rowing, Tezuka-buchou. I have to take photos, remember?" Fuji piped up.

Tezuka sighed. He was, obviously, left with no alternative but to reach for the oars so thoughtfully held outstretched to him. Fuji seated himself directly opposite Tezuka, so as to balance the gondola properly. Then with an expectant smile shot at Tezuka, Fuji lifted his camera and started aiming.

Tezuka rowed for a bit, trying to get used to the how heavy the oars felt once they hit the water. His toned arms, however, meant that it was not a major problem to row the gondola properly. Once he adjusted to it, Tezuka actually found it fun, and kind of peaceful.

Fuji managed to take relatively steady pictures, meaning that Tezuka was rowing the gondola quite skillfully. He chuckled inwardly, not surprised at how the athletic buchou could pick up rowing in a matter of minutes.

The silence between the duo was comfortable, serene even, and Tezuka respected the professionalism in which Fuji immersed himself completely into his job. Tezuka glanced around for a bit, admiring the regal looking buildings that loomed over them. He hadn't really been to this part of the city, and the rustic feel of it made him feel settled. The next thing he noticed was that most of the other gondolas were occupied by couples out for a romantic date. He wondered fractionally whether he and Fuji resembled a couple, then quickly dispelled the impending thoughts.

Tezuka continued to concentrate on rowing the gondola to the best of his ability, all the while listening to the comforting clicks of Fuji's shutter. It was only when the sounds stopped for a moment, did Fuji start to speak.

"Ne, Tezuka, don't you think love is just like water?" Fuji asked, his voice coated in deep contemplation.

"Hn?" Tezuka didn't understand how this question fit in at all, and glanced up, trying to find a clue from the tensai's countenance.

Something hit Tezuka like a freight train, and he froze.

Fuji had sat his camera down next to him, and was now fingering the crystal waters. Droplets of water trailed from his svelte fingers, down to his elegant fingertips, falling back to the canal. The glittering sunlight reflected off Fuji's silky brown tresses, bestowing upon him an almost ethereal beauty. Coupled with the beatific yet wistful smile on Fuji's countenance, it was enough to make Fuji an artpiece from heaven.

Plagued with emotions, Tezuka could barely speak. Clearing his throat, which had become parched from just gazing at the tensai, he replied unsteadily,

"Why do you say that?"

Never taking his eyes off the tensai, Tezuka moved his butt the slightest bit forward, not even sure of what he was doing, even less that he was shaking the gondola.

Without lifting his attention from the water beneath him, Fuji replied softly,

"Love is just like water, something everyone too often takes for granted. Yet what most people do not realize, is that at some point or other in their life, it actually becomes a necessity. Something everyone wants, yet it is up to the heavens to decide who receives such a blessing. Besides, true love is clear, pure and untained, just like this water, ne?"

Tezuka continued inching forward, staring at the way Fuji's lips moved as he spoke. Everything about the other was almost… enticing. Soon, he was no more than a hairbreadth apart from the tensai.

Noticing that Tezuka was not responding, Fuji glanced up momentarily, only to find that Tezuka was no more than a hand's distance away, and the buchou was moving closer still. Shocked to the bone, Fuji was rendered motionless.

Fuji's eyes widened as he realized that Tezuka had let go of the oars, effectively causing the gondola to rock precariously.

"Tezuka, you can't let go of the oars! If not, the whole…"

The lack of rowing, and the weight of both Tezuka and Fuji on one side of the gondola only, caused a loss of balance. The entire gondola tipped over, depositing Fuji headfirst into the water with a surprised squeak. He instinctively pulled on the item nearest to him, which unfortunately, happened to be Tezuka's shirt, and the buchou toppled into the icy water as well.

Tezuka surfaced first, blinking confusedly, and it took him a second to comprehend that he had unwittingly caused both of them to fall into the water. Looking around, he found a brown head next to him, spitting out a stream of water. Fuji looked slightly amused.

"Saa… what a situation we're in. I feel embarrassed."

The meaning of Fuji's words dawned upon him as he realized that all the passersby and and gondola-riders were gawking at them. Tourists were taking snapshots of them, and the lifeguards were on standby with their fluorescent orange life-floats, even though the water was no more than waist deep entirely. Tezuka felt like burying his head into the water.

"Hm. Luckily I brought my waterproof camera, although I assumed I would be the one careless enough to cause us to capsize, not you." Fuji laughed, quivering slightly from the icyness.

"Let's get up, ne?" Fuji waded his way to the bank.

"Hn." Tezuka tried to exit with as much dignity as he could muster, which wasn't very much at the moment.

Once they reached the bank, Fuji dissolved into convulsive laughter. The disastrous situation seemed to amuse him to no end.

"It wasn't that funny.", Tezuka muttered darkly.

"Yes, it was.." Fuji managed to choke out between laughs.

"Not exactly how I was planning to end the day, though.." Fuji said wryly, gesturing to his soaked clothes.

"Go home and change before you catch a cold." Tezuka replied evenly.

"Okay… Meet for dinner later?" Fuji inquired.

"Okay."

They walked back to their respective apartments, Fuji hugging his camera and grinning, Tezuka with his hands in his pockets, wringing water out of his clothes.

_**---To Be Continued--**_

_**Don't forget to review! Reviews are important!! **_


	5. Dinner and confessions

Author's note: Chapter 5, sorry it took so long.. school started… Beware the sap.

**To CelicaChick & tsukihime: The canals are polluted!? Oh well... pretend its sparkling for my fic?**

**To RoYale: I doubt so, too! But my Fuji-muse wouldn't let me off, he was bent on torturing my Tezuka-muse… (**okay, that didn't make any sense…)

**To Maria-chan and Wolfepaws: u guys rock! Thanks for reviewing all e chappies.**

**Chapter 5: Dinner and confessions?**

"Ah-choo!" Fuji sneezed for what seemed like the forth time in the last five minutes. Sniffling slightly, Fuji rubbed an already-soddened tissue against his red nose. He hated to admit it, but he had in fact caught a cold just like Tezuka had predicted. Wrinkling up his nose, he sighed in disappointment as his gaze caught the face of the clock on the mantelpiece.

6.30 pm, the clock read.

With utmost effort, Fuji dragged himself up from the comfy couch in his living room and went to call Tezuka. It looked like a candlelight dinner was just not going to be on the cards today.

"Moshi-moshi"

" Tezuka? sniffle This is Fuji.."

"You've caught a cold, I presume."

"Right. Sorry.. I dont think I can make it to dinner.. AT-CHOO!"

"All right then. Ja."

"sniffleJa."

Returning the tennis-racquet shaped phone receiver back to its original position, Fuji exhaled heavily. He couldn't believe what bad luck he had. Just when he could have a nice dinner with his buchou after seemingly endless waiting of five years, he had to go and fall ill. Cursing his weak immune system, Fuji slumped back into the couch, completely neglecting his hunger and shut his eyes tiredly.

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Tezuka hung up the phone, feeling the slightest twinge of guilt tug at his heartstrings. After all, it was he who had caused Fuji to be in this state. Looking at the piece of paper propped up against his coffee table, on which Fuji had scrawled his address, Tezuka made a momentous and very un-buchou like decision to go over to Fuji's house to cook dinner for his sick friend. However, one peek into his kitchen told him he probably didn't have any ingredients to cook a decent dinner. (He highly doubted that micro waved packages and instant noodles would be particularly healthy for someone ill.) Grabbing his car-keys, Tezuka made a quick stop-over at the supermarket in town.

Scanning row after row of food, Tezuka felt exactly like the role of a doting house-wife cooking for her husband. Furthermore, the wide array of colourful packaging and sizes were making his eyes ache. Grabbing the ingredients he needed, Tezuka ran towards the cashier, as far away from the shelves as possible. Funny how his eyes could focus on inhumanely-quick tennis balls, but not on chicken and the like.

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"Ring-ring."

The insistent ringing of the doorbell roused Fuji up from the depths of his slumber, as he rubbed his eyes blearily. Dragging himself up, he shuffled to the door and opened it, allowing his eyes to focus. Fuji belatedly realized that the brown fuzz standing at the doorstep was Tezuka, and his eyes shot open in sheer astonishment.

"Tezuka? What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to make you dinner." Tezuka replied. His brows furrowed as he took in Fuji's pallor and red nose. Unfortunately, his lip started twitching.

"What?" Fuji replied, looking curiously at the buchou's unreadable expression.

"You look like Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer." Tezuka stated simply, taking all of his willpower not to break out in a grin.

Fuji stuck out his tongue and glowered at Tezuka dangerously, before reaching out to help Tezuka with his plastic bags of food. He plonked them down onto the kitchen table, before gesturing airily to Tezuka.

"So, the kitchen is all yours. I expect to be served in not more than half an hour, my chef. And don't forget to use the apron that is hanging on the fridge. Wouldn't want you to get your clothes dirty, now."

Tezuka sighed as he watched Fuji stride back to the living room to lie on the couch. He had to admit he deserved it. Searching for the apron, he was horrified to see that it was a bright pink one with frilly edges. Shuddering in distaste, Tezuka called out,

"Fuji, is there another apron in your house?"

"zzz…"

He was greeted by Fuji's gentle snoring. Unable to tell whether the snoring was genuine or false, though he suspected the latter, Tezuka put on the apron with a sigh of defeat. He then put the pan on the stove and started slicing up the vegetables and chicken.

When the two plates of food were finally ready, Tezuka decided to set the table for two. He might not have had a romantic bone in his body, but he did want to please the sick tensai. Placing two white floating candles he had bought earlier into a bowl of water, he placed it in the centre of the table, followed by a vase of tulips. Dimming the lights, he put Beethoven's CD in the stereo and then went to wake the tensai up.

Walking over to the couch, Tezuka took a closer look at Fuji's face. The other looked so peaceful, the very image of an angel from heaven. The white oversized shirt Fuji was wearing hung loosely on his lithe frame, revealing one bare shoulder and endless expense of the tensai's neck. Tezuka felt his face reddening, and found himself shaking Fuji rather violently to resist the urge to stroke the other's cheek.

"Ow..Tezuka! I'm awake. Stop shaking me!" a clueless Fuji protested feebly.

"Sorry… but dinner's ready…" Tezuka muttered, pointing at the table he had set up.

"Aww… you prepared all this for me? You surprise me, Tezuka… by the way, you do look adorable in that apron." Fuji said, shooting a fond smile at Tezuka.

Tezuka hurriedly removed the apron that he was still wearing, glaring at Fuji.

"Chicken cacciatore? I didn't know you knew how to prepare Italian food. Smells nice.." Fuji inhaled deeply.

"Dig in then."

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Once dinner was finished and the plates were washed, Tezuka felt relieved that the meal wasn't all that bad, and Fuji seemed to have enjoyed it. Suddenly, he realized that the tensai was standing by himself in the living room, seemingly for no reason. Puzzled, Tezuka stepped closer to find out what was wrong with Fuji. Perhaps the tensai was feeling sick again. Unfortunately, the darkness meant that Tezuka failed to catch the glint Fuji's eye.

One step. Two steps.

"Fuji. Daijoubu?"

In one swift motion, before Tezuka could react, Fuji had captured both of his arms and pinned him forcefully against the wall. Fuji tiptoed and whispered into his ear,

"Tezuka buchou, will you dance with me?"

"Fuji, I have two left feet."

"No you don't. The movements in Tezuka zone look like dance steps to me.." Fuji chuckled.

"Fuji, those aren't dance steps."

"Saa… there're all steps, aren't they. Come on, please?" Fuji gazed up at the buchou, smiling radiantly.

"Okay, okay…" Tezuka agreed grudgingly. He suddenly regretted putting damned Beethoven on the stereo.

Dragged to the middle of the spacious living room, Tezuka stood there awkwardly, before Fuji stepped up to him and guided his hands.

"Here. You put your hands here, like this.."

Tezuka's hands were guided to Fuji's slim waist, whereas Fuji slipped his arms around Tezuka's broad shoulders.

Slowly, they moved to the slow and rhythmic melody of Beethoven's music. Tezuka gazed deeply into Fuji's blue eyes. Somehow, he felt entranced by them, as if he was sinking into oceans with endless depths, further and further. Until it was too late.

Subconciously, he pressed himself closer to the tensai, until their bodies were completely moulded, and he felt Fuji doing the same. Lifting one hand from its placement at Fuji's waist, Tezuka rested it gently on Fuji's cheek, and traced one finger along Fuji's jawline until it met the edge of Fuji's lips. Tezuka felt Fuji entangle one hand into his hair and the other clutching his shirt tightly as he bent down to replace his finger on Fuji's lips by his own lips.

At first the kiss was slow and sweet, but it got increasingly heated as both Fuji and Tezuka put five years worth of yearning and passion into it. Slowly, Tezuka probed at Fuji's lips with his tongue, effectively causing the tensai to moan and part his lips. Gaining entrance to the other's mouth, Tezuka let his tongue linger upon Fuji's, entwining together, unable to get enough of the other. Both of them wanted much more, so much more.

The duo broke apart when the need to breathe arose. Panting hard, Fuji reluctantly separated his mouth from Tezuka, but remained in the warm embrace nonetheless. Glancing up at Tezuka, Fuji took a chance and said the words he meant to convey years ago.

"Tezuka, you might not know this, but I've been in love with you ever since I first laid my eyes upon you the first day we both joined the tennis club. After that, we laid the foundation of friendship, and never once did I allow myself to reveal my innermost feelings to anyone. I thought I could forget about you, but I could not. When you left for Germany, you broke my heart. I've been thinking about you for the past six years. So if this is just a one-time thing, please tell me now so we can stop and I can move on with my life again."

Tezuka looked at Fuji seriously. He was never good at expressing himself, but if there ever was going to be a crucial moment in his life where he would really need his communication skills, this was it.

"Fuji, this is not a one-time thing, it will never be. I, too, have been enthralled by you ever since middle school. I never told you, because I feared it would not only make you hate me, but jeopardize our friendship in the process. I remained single all these years, because there isn't another human being on earth who can match up to your smile, or your soul. Heck, I even have a bear named Fuji on my bed, just so I could remember you even in my dreams. I'm not going to run away from it anymore. Fuji, I love you."

-----To be continued------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hee.. not a very good place to stop… the next 1-2 chap will be the end. Should I write the smut?? Haha… review please!!


	6. Entwined destinies

**Kismet chapter 6**

Disclaimer: I do not own the tenipuri boys. At all.

A/N: Fic finished, feeling a bit sad (sniff). Hope you guys enjoyed! This isn't really the end, the epilogue is on the way (will involve golden pair.. -hinthint- )

Entwined Destinies

Slowly, unable to believe his ears, Fuji opened his eyes, revealing two shocked sapphire orbs. This.. was unbelievable. It was more than what he was hoping to hear, more than he had ever dared to dream about. Before he could control himself, laughter bubbled up from his throat, in sheer delight and amusement. Slowly, he willed himself to speak.

"Ne, buchou, I would never have guessed that you were the soft-toy type," Fuji chuckled softly, tilting his head up to glance fondly at Tezuka.

Grudgingly, Tezuka gave a soft growl of admission, and without warning, enveloped Fuji in his arms.

"Now that I have the original one here, I'll never need substitute stuffed toys again," Tezuka said, his words slightly muffled as his head was buried into Fuji's shoulder.

"Kunimitsu…" Fuji mumbled, ruffling Tezuka's hair with one hand.

"Hm?"

"I love you."

A rare smile blossomed onto Tezuka's face. Fuji Syuusuke, his ultimate rival, best friend and long-time love interest all in one actually loved him. Drawing Fuji closer to him, Tezuka whispered,

"As I love you, Syuusuke."

"Took us five years of waiting to finally confess. How slow we both are, ne?"

Tezuka gently cupped Fuji's cheek without speaking a word, and pulled him back for another kiss. Yes, they both were complete idiots. Idiots for letting this happiness slip through their fingers like fine sand and only collecting it back five years later. Yet, he wouldn't change this bliss for anything in the world. This was where he belonged, and he was never letting go again.

Tezuka felt slim fingers slip under his shirt, lightly tracing a route across his finely-sculpted abdomen. Those mischievous fingers danced about, higher and higher, dangerously nearing a nipple. Grinning playfully at Tezuka, Fuji pinched and toyed with it, enjoying the sensations that clouded Tezuka's face.

Tezuka moaned and writhed under Fuji's touch, experiencing feelings that he had never felt before. Encircling the wrist of said hand, Tezuka gently pulled it away.

"If you want to, Syuusuke…." Tezuka whispered in a low, sensual undertone.

Tezuka's voice sent shivers up Fuji's spine.

"Yes.. I want to… I want you," Fuji purred. He belatedly realized that they were in the living room.

"Let's go to your room then. Lead the way?"

"This way.."

Two figures laid in Fuji's bed that night, with the moonlight streaming in from the window, bestowing upon them a future filled with warmth and love.

THE END

Rather short because I decided to keep it short, sweet and fluffy. Please review!


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